


Bygone College Days

by spikesgirl58



Category: Man from Uncle - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-23
Updated: 2012-09-23
Packaged: 2017-11-14 22:03:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/519976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spikesgirl58/pseuds/spikesgirl58
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So what if the guys had met up in school as opposed to UNCLE?  Written as part of a meme challenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bygone College Days

The bell tower chimed the half hour and Napoleon looked anxiously out around the corner of the doorway.  The rain was picking up in intensity, but he didn’t think it would be enough to stop his classmate.

During the past semester, Illya Kuryakin had proven to be a diligent student.  He’d arrived in August barely able to speak a word of English.  Between his own determination and Napoleon’s exceptional abilities, not to put too fine a point on it, Illya was coming right along. 

Napoleon was still tutoring him, but he had a feeling it was because neither young man wanted the situation to end.  Napoleon found himself anticipating their weekly sessions more and more.  He’d arrive early and find reasons to linger, even when the excuses were as flimsy as some of the shirts girls wore around campus.

The Russian was here on an exchange program and Napoleon soon saw why.  The young man was brilliant, a quick student and he has the most incredible blue eyes Napoleon had ever had the pleasure of getting lost in.   In short, Napoleon was falling head over heels in love with his pupil and he didn’t like to think about what he was going to have to do this afternoon.

The sound of someone running and suddenly Illya was there, a flurry of arms and legs as he dashed into the protections of the covered stone portico.

“There you are!  I was getting worried.”  The minute Napoleon spoke, he felt like an old mother hen.

Instead of being chagrined by Napoleon’s concern, Illya laughed.  “Thank you my friend.  It is good to be worried over.”  Illya took out his book from the protection of his jacket and flopped down on to a bench.  “I am sorry to be so late, but the professor …. How do you say…? _Любопытна_?”

“I don’t know that word, Illya”

“He speeches a lot….”

“You mean talkative?”

“ _Да_ , that’s it.  Talkative.”  Illya repeated the word.  “It is a good word.”  Then he stopped and studied Napoleon.  There was not a sound except for the hiss of the rain and the rumble of distant thunder.  “What is wrong, my friend?”

“I’m sorry, Illya, but I have to quit as your tutor.”

“What?  Am I stupid?  I will study harder, Napoleon.  I swear I will.”

“It’s not you, Illya.  It’s me.  I’m… well, it’s sort of embarrassing.”

“Napoleon, are you my friend?

“Yes.”  His voice was a whisper.

“And I am yours.  Surely between two friends, there is nothing…”

“I’m in love with you, Illya.”  The words tumbling out and Napoleon braced himself, half expecting a rousing punch.  What he wasn’t expecting was Illya’s laugh.  He felt his face burn with embarrassment.

“Is that all?”

“Isn’t that enough?”  Then they were kissing and all the world vanished except for the pressure of lips against him and the feeling of Illya in his arms.

“No, my friend, it is not enough.”  Illya’s voice was husky.  “I have wanted you since the day I met you.  I dreamt of a dozen ways of telling you and instead you come to me.   So, no, it is not enough.  Not until you and I are very old men and we’ve learned every secret that the other possesses for we grew old together.  Then, perhaps, just perhaps, **that** will be enough.”

It didn’t matter then that the wind was bitter, the rain freezing.  It didn’t matter than the stone was cold and the skies were nearly black with rain clouds.  In Napoleon’s heart, there was sun and warmth and a sense of forever.

 


End file.
